


A Consequence of Being Wicked

by eiyria



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27988908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eiyria/pseuds/eiyria
Summary: The world has changed so significantly over the past few years that private investigator Harry Dresden doesn't recognize the world that he grew up in. Mortals have taken notice of the supernatural world, instead of turning a blind eye to the creatures who go bump in the night.Alternate Universe. Takes place at about the same time as Summer Knight.
Relationships: Harry Dresden/Susan Rodriguez
Comments: 5
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

I had managed to get most of the items on my grocery list, when my little containment spell began to show signs of falling apart. I sucked in a deep breath, taking a moment to calm my nerves and focus intently on reeling in my magic. The spell stabilized, and despite the distraction of running magical calculations, I felt true relief. No electronics were going to explode, so long as I kept my cool. No one would suspect I was a wizard.

And I was a wizard. A real practitioner of the arts. A few years ago I would have been laughed at for admitting that. But times had changed. They'd changed so much and so quickly I didn't even recognize the world I'd grown up in.

Because a few years ago, in 1994 the Unseelie Incursion happened. As a result, Milwaukee disappeared for two hours. Before then, if something supernatural happened, a vanilla mortal would probably just ignore it, and pass it off as something they must have imagined out of the corner of their eye. Historically, whether it be something big or small, the mortal mind would just bury it deep. But in 1994, for whatever reason, that didn't happen. Mortals _noticed_. They remembered.

I'd read about the old Salem witch trials, but I hadn't truly _understood_. I hadn't comprehended the fear and the paranoia that came with rubbing up against the supernatural world. I hadn't understood how normal everyday human beings would react to a perceived threat. And react they did. Except they didn't just bring pitchforks. They researched and read. Standard ammunition became almost exclusively steel. Salt became more than a standard flavoring. Everyone carried objects of faith on them at all times. Stakes were sold next to the school supplies at the local Walmart.

I didn't really consciously notice it. Not till one night, as I walked by the local electronics store. The TV's bright screen was impossible to miss in the dark. The news was playing. They'd captured some sorcerer named Victor Sells. I didn't know the guy, but I didn't have to in order to understand just how much the world had changed.

A swat team had burned his house to the ground, an unknown number of wounded practitioners still inside. I noticed no one went back into the burning building to save them. No one tried to put out the fire. Even with television picture being as blurred as it was, I could still make out what happened. I'd seen them put an unconscious Victor into a dark van, wearing strange thorned manacles, and blood soaking through his shirt at his midsection. But what really made the hairs on the back of my neck stand ramrod straight was the black hood they'd put over his face. It shook a memory loose in my head. An all to recent memory of the worst day of my life. I made a decision in that moment. That was not going to be me.

I'd packed what little belongings I'd had, retired my duster for something less conspicuous, and moved out. Went to the only place any of us could go. Undertown. It wasn't safe, but topside wasn't much safer. I carved out my own little hollow, right underneath a part of Chicago where my topside neighbors cared more about making ends meet than witch hunting. It wasn't just me who made the hop. Anyone who couldn't pass in vanilla society found their way down there. They saw the writing on the wall.

I snagged some ground beef from the cold section and headed to the checkout line. Sweat began beading at my forehead, signs of strain and weariness from maintaining the spell. I could keep it up for about an hour if I remained perfectly calm and didn't move. For grocery runs I typically lasted about 30 minutes. I smiled at the cashier and kept my eyes low. The last thing I needed was a soulgaze. She rang me up. I fetched my wallet from my coat pocket and paid in cash. More urgently, I felt the spell begin to slip dangerously. I grabbed my two bags and made a beeline for the door.  
  
"Sir," a voice called after me. "You forgot your change!"

I really needed the money. Nick didn't pay me nearly enough. But the spell was unraveling, and I had very little time to get out.

"Keep it," I called back, walking as fast as I could into the parking lot.

I didn't slow my pace until I got to a park along my route. I put the two bags of groceries down beside me and slouched onto the park bench, catching my breath and letting the spell fall apart around me.

I slicked my sweaty hair back and took in my surroundings. This park was mostly an open sun-kissed grass field surrounded by weathered trees, and was surprisingly empty of people. Too empty.

I extended my wizard senses, and while I did so, a firm hand pressed into my shoulder, holding me in place. My suspicions helped me keep a level head, and I turned coolly to look up at the being next to me.

"Godmother," I crowed, "What long nails you have?"

A smile stretched across her blood-red lips. "Why Godson," she cooed, "Am I to be the wolf in this scenario?" An almost musical laugh bubbled from her throat, "So distrustful, for one so young."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "What are you doing here Lea?" I tried to keep my voice pleasant, but a hint of something hard seeped into it. "I hope you're not going to try to whisk me off to the Nevernever to become one of your hounds."

She slid next to me onto the bench. "On any other occasion, perhaps, though, events have been set in motion."

I froze, parsing over her words. A cold feeling spread out starting in my belly. Rarely where high Sidhe quite so direct. When dealing with Faeries, everything had a cost. If my godmother was offering up information free of charge with no prompting, it meant that whatever that cost had been, it had already been paid. That narrowed down things considerably.

"And I suppose, these events that have been set in motion, -" I rolled my shoulder, giving myself time to think this through, "- have implications for those caught in the Nevernever, with the potential to spill over the moral world?"

The Leanansidhe's eyes gleamed with pride. "You ascertain the situation well."

"You had some sort of deal with Mom to protect me," I said, "So if you're reaching out to me about this, you think," I rubbed my eyes tiredly, "That whatever is going on, might affect me in a particular deadly way."

She leaned over as she stood up, planting a kiss on my forehead along the way. "Talk to your little Troll friend," she suggested, "Keep your eyes and ears open. Don't let your noble streak get you into trouble." She turned away, her reddish curls falling enchantingly against her back. "I have obligations to which I must attend. Goodbye Godson. Try to be home before midnight."

I watched her go, and gradually the park began to fill with people. I stood up, and once again ran a hand through my hair.

"Huh," I said, pulling my hand away and rubbing my fingers together. No sweat. Not even a little bit of grease. With a single finger, I pulled the neck of my shirt out and chanced a sniff. "Huh," I said again, this time more jovially. Even after all the strain of maintaining the containment spell and the exertion of my speedy escape, I felt clean. I grabbed my groceries and they felt slightly heavier than I remembered. I checked the bag. Nestled next to the noodles and parmesan was a dark bottle of red wine. I grinned. Sometimes, it was nice to have a Faerie godmother.

Sometime later, I unlocked Susan's front door, strode into her kitchen, and placed my two bags of groceries in her fridge.

"Susan!" I called out to the void. "I got the stuff for dinner!"

I heard a commotion coming from her bedroom, followed by a muffled, "Harry! Just give me a minute!"

I listened, more deeply than most people were able, and I heard the steady buzz of electronics go silent, followed by the sound of a plug being pulled from the wall.

Susan and I had been dating for almost four years now. There were times I suspected she knew I was a practitioner, but it was never something that had come up formally in our relationship. _Plausible_ _deniability_ , said a sultry voice in the back of my head. _There is no reason to report you to the authorities if she doesn't know for sure_. I shoved those paranoid thoughts aside. "Shut up Harry," I told myself, "This is the -one- good thing you've got going! Don't go and screw it up "

Slender dark hands enveloped me, and I felt Susan push against my back. "You're talking to yourself again Harry," she chided playfully. "But tell me," she probed, "What's this 'One good thing' that you've supposedly 'got going'?"

I turned towards her, careful not to break her embrace, and just looked down at her. I don't know what my face looked like, but something in her expression changed and her eyebrows rose in realization. "Oh," she gasped.

She reached up and cupped my cheek with her hand. I leaned down into it. She met my eyes. Unafraid, I met hers. We'd already shared a soulgaze, back in the early days before the world had gone crazy. She'd chalked it up to an intense mushroom trip.

Finally she spoke softly, "Do me a favor?"

"What kind of favor?"

"Don't worry so much."

I felt a genuine smile begin to creep across my face.

She pulled away and sidestepped around me to reach the cabinets. She took out a stainless steel pot and her mood switched to something more playful. "But," she taunted, "If you absolutely want something to worry about, I guess you can be in charge of the sauce."

I rounded on her. "But- But!" I sputtered. "But you've been telling me for weeks about this pasta sauce recipe you got from Lydia!" The kitchen lights flickered for the briefest of moments, and I had to forcibly impose calm upon my mind.

Susan shot me a grin that reached her eyes. "Fine, fine." she chuckled. "I'll handle the sauce if you can start on the garlic bread."

My stomach rumbled in reply and I got to work.

We cooked together and then made our way to the couch to eat. Lydia Stern's recipe was every bit as good as the hype made it up to be. And when I pulled out Lea's wine, Susan's eyes got wide. She practically skipped back to the kitchen to fetch two long stemmed wine glasses. Overall it was a fantastic date night, and she walked me to the door to see me off.

"Be careful, Harry," she said, standing on her tippy toes and planting a kiss on my lips.

I leaned down a little to help her out. "I'll try," I murmured before pulling back up to my full stature.

She leaned against the door frame, looking up at me. Her mouth twitched into a frown and her eyes narrowed, debating something unseen. "Just be careful," she pleaded, "I've had to write a noticeable amount of coverage on strange deaths. Some of them around your area." She looked away from me, face pained. "I didn't want to bring it up. We were having such a nice night."

"By 'deaths', do you mean The Crispy Cadavers?" I supplied.

"I mean yes, that's what I called them in my article for the Midwest Arca- Harry," her face brightened, "You read my article?"

"Susan," I raised my hand to cover my heart and wore an expression of mock hurt, "I read all your articles."

She dragged me back down by my coat and kissed me hard and fast.

Susan bade me goodnight and I began my journey home. I stuck to my usual route. One that included numerous alleys, the park, and areas generally avoided by normal people. The plan was to enter Undertown at one of it's entrances, and continue back to my place that way. Years ago, I would have avoided Undertown and its interconnecting network of passageways, filled with creatures that could rend flesh from bone.

But that was years ago. Times had changed. And I had changed with them. My godmother had warned me earlier to stay out of trouble. She needn't have bothered. I was cautious compared to the person I once was. Patient even. Mostly. Comparatively at least.

So when I saw a large riled-up group of men sporting thick leathers, fire, and steel weaponry beating against the door to one of the supposedly secret entrances to Undertown, I didn't act as heroically as I might have in my younger years. I kept walking, taking special care to catalog their faces, and reaching out slightly with magic to gauge the strength of the wards. It would hold till sun-up, provided the gang didn't just burn the whole place to the ground.

All the common entrances to Undertown had wards now. In the time before; the supernatural world held an attitude of arrogance. Humans posed no threat against beings made to hunt them. Then some gangster upstart had taken down Chicago's Red Court faction last year and proved in order to defeat monsters - you didn't a bigger badder monster - all you needed was fire and a little motivation. The wards to Undertown had gone up within a week of that event. I'd personally helped setup a good 1/3 of them with the help of a score of kitchen witches.

"Hey!" a younger group member yelled out at me.

I kept walking. It was an effort to keep my pace constant. Speeding up would have been a dead give away.

"Hey! Where you going?" the boy nudged a friend with his elbow before heading my way. I felt the gaze of the group shift in my direction.

Oh, for crying out loud. Dealing with a mob was not how I envisioned ending the night. I stopped walking and thought about how I was going to play this.

The boy -barely of drinking age with scotch brown hair falling over intelligent eyes- and his friend got closer. I didn't hear the footfalls of the others. A small comfort. It was dark outside. Another small comfort.

"I don't want any trouble," I fumed, turning my head just enough to see over my shoulder.

"R~ight," slurred the boy, "Most people stay indoors when the sun goes down these days." He tilted his finger at his eye, and then towards me. "Everyone knows, too many people-eating monsters live out in the dark." He leaned back and pointed at me fully, his body language itching for a fight. "Which means, you're either one- an idiot, two- think you can take down a monster, or three- are one yourself." White teeth flashed through the darkness, "So which is it mister? Somehow I don't think you're an idiot."

"You give me too much credit," I grumbled mostly to myself. My mind played through a few scenarios in my head. "Besides, couldn't I ask the same of you?"

"Hah," barked the boy. "You saw the folks I've been hanging out with. I watched you take a long look at us." His hand found its way to his side. I saw the gleam of a firearm at his hip. "I think my friends are a testament to my character."

"I told you," I growled, "I don't want any trouble." I sighed and put inflection into my voice, the annoyance I didn't have to fake, "Look! I don't know what this is about! I'm just trying to get home. If this is some elaborate mugging- ," I reached into my coat pocket; and for a moment I saw him twitch towards his gun. Pulling out my wallet I opened it and showed him my last twenty dollars in fives, "You're pretty bad at picking your mark because I don't have any money."

"Toss it over here," he said, slowly pulling his weapon out.

"What?" I gasped, "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

Warning bells were sounding in my head. My options were becoming limited and more inclined towards violence. And if I actually gave him the wallet, he might see my ID, get my name. 'Bad' wouldn't even begin to describe that situation. I could kiss my job, my girlfriend, and probably the idea of a normal life goodbye.

I turned slightly more towards him, opened the wallet wide, showed him the worn and empty inside save the four $5 bills, kept my thumb over my ID. I hoped this would work. I took the money out and flung it at his feet. "Happy now?" I yelled.

His gun remained pointed at me. "Hey, mister?" he asked, and something cruel making its way upon his barely illuminated features. "I didn't get a good look because of the dark, but it looked to me like you didn't have any credit cards in your wallet." He tisked, "No credit cards, debit cards, no gift cards... Now why might that be? I wonder."

Oh shit.

"Hey guys," he called to the larger group near the Undertown entrance. "We got a live one."


	2. Chapter 2

A pleasant dinner with my girlfriend and a relaxing night with my cat - is it really too much to ask for? 

"Hell’s bells," I muttered to myself, "It's like the universe has something against me."

The boy in front of me kept his gun targeted at me and waited for the larger mob to join him. His deranged smirk and giddy demeanor made it clear he wanted to savor the violence that he was about to rain down. His streak of cruelty proved to be his first mistake. By waiting on the larger group, to surround and intimidate me with their numbers, he'd given me plenty of time to prepare. I was a wizard, not a two bit sorcerer, I only needed seconds.

I watched his eyes in my peripheral vision. Though young he seemed to know enough about magical beings to avoid locking eyes with me. But a soulgaze wasn't what I was trying to do. For just a moment, he looked over his shoulder to check on the larger group's approach. His brief distraction was all the opportunity I needed. 

I threw myself to the side and simultaneously shook out my shield bracelet. "Defendarius!" I hollered fusing my voice with anger. A wide shimmering blue dome coalesced between me and my attackers. I heard the expected unmistakable sound of gunfire, and through my semi-transparent shield I could see the boy's face contort in fury as he realized his undoing. I bared my teeth and smiled gleefully at them. None of their bullets hit me. My shield held them all at bay. 

I watched the group's faces change. Their certainty replaced both by fear and anger. "All too easy," I mocked in my best Vader voice. 

And it was, relatively speaking. This was not my first angry mob, and it would certainly not be my last. They were an unorganized rowdy bunch; knocking on the door to Undertown more for the thrill and the self validation, than anything else. Bullies who had nothing to lose versus someone who had everything to lose. While still dangerous, their motivations were a fragile pale comparison to mine. 

  
With a whisper of power I smothered the lights form their torches. It was a spell I used at home to put out the candles. Extending my right hand in the general direction of the gathered group I snarled, "Hexus". A wave of magical energy shot out and spread, unseen to the human eye. In its path all artificial light winked out. Immediately, I dropped my shield bracelet. The pulsing blue light evaporated leaving us in complete darkness. No streetlights, no flashlights, no flames to light their way.   
  
Quietly, I darted from the last position they'd seen me. My shoes were silent on the asphalt. After all, over the past few years I'd had lots of practice for situations just like these. I heard several 'clicks', as several weapons affected by my hex failed to fire. One sounded, presumably aimed at my last known location. I was already out of the line of sight by then.

Rounding the side of a building, I kept my back to the wall and squatted low to the ground. Adrenaline pumped through me, but I steadied myself with a few controlled breaths. Once calm I Listened. 

About two buildings away I could hear the small scuffling sounds of the mob. One of the group was making soft whimpering noises, and was promptly hushed by another. The darkness had blinded them and put their plans for me on-hold. Their advantage of numbers was nothing if they couldn't perceive their target. In a sense, they were lucky to have attacked little old me. An actual monster would have  torn them to pieces without even attempting banter.

I'd made my escape and put considerable distance between us, effectively neutralizing their threat. However experience had also taught me that vigilance was a trait oftentimes rewarded. I continued Listening around me, searching for any sound that could signal an observer in our minor conflict. Just because you saw one threat, didn't mean there weren't more out there just waiting for an opening.

When I was as sure as I could be, I rose, and headed for the next known entrance to Undertown along my route.

* * *

  
My neighbor Meryl, a large muscular woman with muddy green hair, answered the door wielding a shotgun. "Mr. Dresden," she scolded. "Do you have any idea how late it is?"

I waved at her suddenly nervous. "Hey Meryl," I blurted, "Got a moment?"

Her eyes narrowed and darted left and right. "Not out here," she hissed before backing up to leave the door ajar. Which, in my neck of the woods, was the closest thing to an invitation to enter - without actually inviting someone in. I took a step over the threshold and followed her.

When I called Meryl 'my neighbor', that didn't truly encapsulate our living arrangement. Undertown is a large and confusing place containing both a vast network of underground tunnels and also the remains of ruined buildings sunk into the swampy ground ages ago. Our area's nearest topside entrance emptied out to an old abandoned office building, which had acted as a front for a speakeasy during the roaring 20s. The speakeasy had  naturally connected to the tunnel system for use during Prohibition to transport alcohol. Meryl and I had both moved down here at about the same time, and the speakeasy caught both of our attention. Naturally this caused conflict. We had a less than amicable introduction. Words were said. She punched me in the face and left me for dead in a dumpster. Later she felt bad, and as an apology offered me the storage room attached as an afterthought to the speakeasy's original design. I accepted, blasted through a wall to make a new door, and hoped her temper kept the real nasties away from my new home. It was a symbiotic relationship.

It had been a while since I saw the inside of her home, and my jaw hung open in surprise. It looked like a page out of a magazine: decorated and ornately furnished. Red velvet furniture and warm tapestries accented polished cement floors and ancient stony walls. She'd somehow got electricity running through the whole place because a massive chandelier hung in the main room's center. Not to mention, the large assortment of bottles that overlooked an oak-wood bar.   
  
"You had something you wanted to discuss," Meryl asked, clearly annoyed at this unplanned intrusion. 

"Yeah, sorry," I ran my hand uncomfortably through my hair, taking one last look at my surroundings, "I was warned that something was happening in the Nevernever." I frowned, "Something that could affect the mortal realm. Anyways-" I tapered off, gesturing vaguely, "I was told to talk to you. That you would know what's up."

"I hope you're not getting me wrapped up in your funny business, Mr. Dresden," she cautioned. "I try to keep a low profile, unlike you."

"I'm careful," I fired back, still focused on the décor, "My profile is plenty low."

She snorted loudly and rolled her eyes. "Uh huh," she sneered sarcastically. Her playful expression vanished after a second, and the energy seemed to drain from her face. "In all seriousness, there are schemes going on. Things are bad." She melted into a velvet armchair. For a second she allowed herself to look very worried, and very vulnerable.    
  
"Mr. Reuel, was murdered today."

My head snapped towards her in surprise. I looked at her sharply, "That guy who use to come by here sometimes? Old guy? White hair?"

She looked at me, her eyes were wet and glassy. She sucked in a breath, "Yeah." She let out a breath, her voice sounding heavy, "That was him."

I went to the armchair, hunching over to be on her level. I held her hand. "Meryl," I comforted her gently. "I'm so sorry."

Ron Reuel had been a pseudo father figure to Meryl and a group of her friends. I'd seen him come around often enough, always bringing snacks and a smile on his face. As an added bonus, a lot of  W inter - y fae had coincidentally stopped frequenting our area. My neighbor had seemed like a happier person with him around, which made him a good guy in my book. For someone like Meryl, who stood out on the topside, friends were hard to come by down below. The loss of Reuel must have been tearing her apart. 

"Does Lily know?" I chanced. Lily was Meryl's roommate who worked for a modeling company and spent a lot of time topside. "Do you have someone you can talk to about this?" 

Our eyes met for a dangerous second.   
  
As much as she tried to hold her emotions in, a single tear escaped her control, falling down her cheek. "Lily hasn't come home, Mr. Dresden." Her voice came out in a hiccupping quality, "I can't get a hold of her. I don't know where she is." I heard a stifled wail get caught in her throat. "I have a bad feeling about this."

I did the only thing I could have done. I waited with her, held her hand, and let her know she wasn't alone. "We'll find her," I decided. "We'll find her."

She sobbed.


	3. Chapter 3

I opened my door at two minutes till midnight. My home is a speakeasy's surplus storage room, so it was a small place; but I worked with what I had and made it my own. One third of the area I had crudely walled off, into a small kitchenette alcove and a makeshift bathroom. One of Meryl's friends had been kind enough to hook up the plumbing. The other two thirds were warm and cozy and covered with second hand rugs, ambiently lit candles, and all but one wall lined with bookshelves. A well used couch and accompanying end table sat in the middle of the open area. Upon it lounged my foster sister, Elaine, her legs curled up to her midsection, nestling a skull carved with enchanted markings and runes.

I'd thought her dead for the longest time, but after the Unseelie Incursion she'd made herself known to me. At that time the world was scrambling to make sense of the supernatural, and almost everyone in the magical world began to seek strength in numbers. And it just so happened I was one of the few people she trusted. Sort of. Both her and I had issues like that. We both knew why, and we didn't like to speak or acknowledge it.  
  
The skull's, Bob's, orange eyes projected a stream of light against the empty wall, forming a makeshift movie theater. My sister had always been the smart one, ever since childhood. One day she had brought home technical books on radio signals and networking for my lab assistant Bob to read. And as a result, the two of us were probably the only wizards on the planet capable of watching TV like vanilla mortals.

Neither seemed to hear me as I entered. Closing the door as softly as I could, watching the projected screen.

"Proposition A has passed almost unanimously," a male reporter monotoned. "Starting early next year the city of Chicago will move forward with it's plan to update our infrastructure, specifically tying second generation zap-chip devices into the detection grid."

I felt my shoulders slump. I knew what this was about.

"New constructions will be required to have one of these installed." The reporter held up a green electronic about the size of his hand. "These devices have been tested and have been deemed extremely safe to use."

"Miles," a female reporter with dark hair and a small nose injected, "What does this mean for everyone else? Not just the new-constructions."

"Well," the male reporter replied turning towards his companion without ever really looking away from the camera, "While it's not required for business owners of pre-built establishments to install anything, it is highly recommended."

The camera cut away to only show the male reporter's face.

"Once installed and hooked up, these chips will relay any disruption or electrical surges to a central system. The system will ring law enforcement in the event an unusually-induced surge is detected. Additionally the central system will ping the chips periodically. If one manages to be taken down- law enforcement is similarly informed. This significantly increases the response time, and keeps our streets safer."

The reporter didn't have to say it. Everyone knew what he was talking about. Normal everyday mortals were now informed about a variety of magical topics. Everyone these days knew the warning signs of magic: surges, blackouts, eye contact that triggered something more. It had only been a matter of time before they built tools to automatically detect it. Proposition A wasn't about updating the city's outdated building codes. It was about building a city wide detection system for the supernatural. As hard as it was to move about now, with prop A passing, it was about to get a whole hell of a lot harder.

"Hell's bells," I swore under my breath.

Elaine's face turned towards me, her tired eyes acknowledging my presence. "Harry," she greeted me heavily, before returning to look at the screen.

I shrugged off my coat and moved to sit next to her on the couch. She moved her legs to make room.

"Now this?" I shook my head, "On top of all the mess going on in Faerie, this too?"

Her eyes didn't waver from the projection, "So you heard about the death of the Summer Knight?" she mumbled to herself.

I stared at her. "Reuel was the Summer Knight?"

She looked back at me impatient. "Yes," muttered Elaine, "And it gets worse, Aurora has employed my services to work with Winter's Emissary." A small fraction of a bitter smile tugged at her cheek. "By doing this my debt with Summer will be cleared. If I fail," her eyes closed painfully, "Summer and Winter go to war. Normal people will probably die too."

Oof. And I thought I'd had it bad. "So no pressure?" I asked.

Though her eyes were closed, I could almost feel her roll her eyes. A short laugh escaped her mouth. "No pressure," she said sarcastically.

We were quiet for a while, just watching the news.

"Though," she said in a serious tone, "Honestly, I'm considering running." She paused. "This is too big."

"You think you can get away from this by skipping town?"

"No." She shook her head. "No, I guess not." Desperation entered her voice, "I just don't know what I'm going to do."

"We'll get through it," I vocalized resolutely. "We always do. Why didn't you call earlier?" We both knew I wasn't talking about phones. Elaine and I had at an early age worked out a spell that allowed communication mind to mind. We used it to cheat on tests at school.

She let out another barked laugh, "Didn't want to ruin your date silly."

I laid back on the couch, just relaxing. And like most things that had happened tonight, it was abruptly ruined.

A loud fist sounded on my door frame.  
  
"Dresden," a gruff older voice yelled, "Open up!"


	4. Chapter 4

I have never been on the best of terms with my probation officer. Ever since I'd killed my former foster father in self  defense , Morgan, enforcer of the White Council, had personally seen to making my life a living hell. After the world had changed for the worse, he seemed to back off. I doubted he thought I'd been reformed; instead I surmised the Council as a whole was laying low during a modern witch hunt. As a result, like the rest of the supernatural world, Morgan's comings and goings, were a lot more restricted. For though he easily beat me in sheer experience, his body was still flesh, and mortal bullets were still deadly to him.

Morgan knocking on my door just passed midnight was not a good sign. I shot a glance at Elaine, but she was already moving. She knew the drill. I watched as she pulled gently at a bookshelf, sliding it open to reveal a hidden closet just large enough to fit a twin sized bed. Secret rooms and compartments were one of the perks of living in a speakeasy. She  disappeared under a veil, more complicated than anything I could muster up, and I watched as the shelf seemed to swing itself closed. Turning back to the door, I suddenly felt very sympathetic to Meryl, who'd had to deal with the same bullshit from me, a half-hour prior.

I pulled the door open a little too quickly, and my efforts were rewarded with a broad sword pointed straight at my throat. 

"Morgan!" I greeted with obviously fake cheer. "I'd say it's a pleasure, but it is really not." I  immediately dropped my false elation, swapping it for irritation, "What are you doing here? It's late."

"The faerie courts prepare for battle, I know you're involved with this!"

I rolled my eyes. Zealots. Like a dog forever chasing a bone.

"Morgan," I spoke sweetly, "I know you truly believe everything bad that happens, is somehow my fault. But for crying out loud," I spat  exasperated , "I only just found out all of this is happening."

"From summoning demons, no doubt," Morgan rasped without missing a beat.   
  
"From my  _Neighbor_ ." I stressed the words, "Who  happened to know the deceased. Not to mention one of the missing."

He didn't seem to know much what to say to that, so he did what Morgan normally did to fill our time together. He shoved me out of the way, and forced his way into my little abode.  Mandatory inspections for black magic were a part of life under the Doom of Damocles. I didn't even try to protest, beyond a grunt. Usually he was a lot more dick - ish if I tried, and I'd rather not spend the effort cleaning up strewn tables and shelves. Sleep was calling to me. 

I settled on the couch, and though my heart was beating fast with fear and anger, I tried to put on an air of calm and relaxation.

I think this upset my probation officer, because when he eyed me, I could almost feel his hatred tangibly. He turned his attention, rustling around my work bench.

A noise sounded from the secret closet where Elaine hid. 

Morgan's head shot up like he'd heard the crack of gunfire. "What was that?" He muttered self satisfied, almost to himself.

My heart froze. It was suffice to say, if a warden of the White Council found another apprentice of a suspected warlock hidden just under their noses, the  consequences would be severe for both the one found and the one doing the hiding. And by 'severe', I meant good old fashioned decapitation. 

Morgan approached the dimly lit  shelving unit, in an almost pantherine motion.

Something gray and fast shot out from the dark top of the shelf, heading straight for Morgan. I heard the cling of his sword hit the stone floor, and the hiss of an angry animal.

I stood up to my full height, my façade of calm abandoned, fury to match his building behind my eyes. The gray bundle le a pt into my arms, and I caught it, holding it protectively. "You almost killed my cat," I snarled. "What?" I mocked  savagely , "Do you think this  fur ball was  guilty of working black magic?" My eyes narrowed and I  enunciated each word, "Get. The. Fuck. Out of my house."

I saw Morgan flustered for the first time, his face temporarily twisted in confusion, and dare I say it, guilt. I sighed. My cat gets more respect than I do.

"I have done nothing to you, tonight or otherwise," I added. "Unless you plan to stab an innocent man in his own home -"

" Innocent ?" Morgan cut me off  sneering. "You?" He snorted.

"Get. Out."

To my surprise he did. Mostly. On the way out he growled, "This isn't over."

"Of course it is," I replied. "Good bye, Morgan." I followed him and slammed my door shut after him.

After the source of my probation officer was gone, I just sunk, back against the door, and held myself. My cat Mister crawled out of my arms and loped across the room to settle on the couch. Angry mobs and faerie godmothers I could handle; Wardens on the other hand - well - I still had nightmares about them coming for me, clad in their swirling gray cloaks, strong arms hoisting sharp swords.

I felt cool fingers on my shoulder, and looked up to see Elaine. 

"You're shaking Harry," she said softly.

I grunted in manly  acknowledgment.

"Ugh," she grumbled, "I hate that asshole."

I grunted again affirmatively. 

"The only good thing to come out of the fallout from the 1994 Unseelie Incursion, was seeing less of him."

That got a thin smile on my face.

"It's late," she muttered, "You should get to bed. Don't you have work  tomorrow ?"


	5. Chapter 5

I paid the price for staying up late the next morning. The sun was too bright, Ragged Angel Investigations  acquired two more missing children cases, and my boss, Nicholas Christian, was extra grouchy. The day finally ended, and I walked home topside. It was a rather magic-friendly route. Old buildings with barely functional street lights made up my way home. Even if I hexed a lamppost in broad daylight, people would probably attribute it to faulty wiring or age, rather than witchcraft. 

I took a shortcut through an alley way, and tensed when I saw a fast moving, short, figure round the corner. The lithe form twisted to avoid shoulder clocking me, and continued past.

A second later, I saw what the person had been running from. Well, calling it a 'person' might have been an overstatement.

Exposed bone and sagging flesh moved more quickly than any human could in my direction. I recognized it immediately as a black court vampire. I didn't have time to pull my blasting rod from my belt and aim controlled fire at the creature. It was just that fast. But that didn't mean I wasn't ready. Between the angry mobs, mock duels with my sister, and defending my territory from man-eating monsters on a bi weekly basis, I was as prepared as any mortal wizard could be. 

I concentrated my will, and a shimmering blue shield materialized before me. The black court vampire, a victim of his own momentum, slammed into it. Hard. I poured power into my  shield , and it held solid, letting physics do most of the work. The speeding vampire's neck flung back with an audible and terrifying crack. I heard other bones in its chest cavity  simultaneously snap against my  shield. From just an arm away I got a good look at it. Through patchy hair I could see part of its skull, its cataract eyes telegraphed nothing, a small round bullet hole bled  dark viscous liquid from a spot on its cheekbone.   
  
I sunk my voice and did my best  imitation of a certain body-building movie star, "You're one ugly motherfu-"

My line was interrupted by the creature's scream. Its eyes focused on me and I felt its strong arms beat against my shield.   
  
Me and my big mouth were always getting us into more trouble. 

I timed my next move, dropping the shield, and activating three of my force rings  simultaneously. Kinetic energy lashed out, cutting into the creature, and spraying dark ichor all over my face, before propelling the creature back. It scraped along the alley wall, flesh tearing from its body. I didn't waste a moment on any more smart quips, instead I drew my blasting rod, aiming where the creature was slated to land, and  imbued my power into the outstretched rod. 

"Fuego!" I roared.

A blast of fire erupted from my blasting rod, spreading forward and out in the shape of a cone. It engulfed the creature, and I heard an agonized scream. However, I didn't let up on the spell. This vampire still seemed a little juicy, and I doubted a single blast would be enough to keep it down. The Black Court were extremely tough compared to the other flavors of vampire. One can never be to sure. Only when the screaming stopped did I extinguish my blast of fire.

I slumped against the alley wall and took a moment to catch my breath. Holding a fire spell that long was no easy feat. It required a lot of energy. I felt tired and exhausted, but I pushed myself to my feet. People would have heard the screaming. People would have called the police. 

Law enforcement these days wasn't what it use to me. Now days, being anything magical wouldn't just get you arrested, it would get you dead. They had whole departments for it in almost every branch of law enforcement. The FBI had a notoriously infamous record for training its employees in how to deal with mortal and supernatural threats. Sometimes the police or FBI would even hire consultants, which basically equated to monster hunters for hire.

Basically, I needed to get moving. Fast.

I turned back for just a second and froze. For a dangerous second I met the eyes of a very short blond woman with a cute button nose. She wore the blue uniform identifying her as part of the Chicago Police Department. She looked ready and alert; her arms holding a gun, safely pointed safely down at the ground. Her eyes were wide.

I looked away before a  s oulgaze could start. I started gathering power. To do what - I didn't yet know.  _This is it_ , I told myself _, This is how it all ends_ . Scenarios played in my head. I'd saved her life a second ago, and now mine was about to be snuffed out. End of the line. I mean, unless I did something about it. Despite the weariness I felt, I'd gathered enough power to create a variety of options.

And then she surprised me. In a world primarily driven by fear, she did the one thing I'd grown to never expect from someone confronted by the supernatural. She returned the gun to its holster, nodded to me, and simply walked away.

I let go of my collected power, and breathed heavy.

A moment later I threw up a poor excuse for a veil to hide the splatter of ic h or across my face and torso, and continued home.


	6. Chapter 6

Upon opening the door to Ragged Angel Investigations, I was greeted by a very particular look on my boss, Nickolas Christian's, face.

He  enunciated every word, "What." he breathed with something resembling frustration. "Did." he drew out a pause. "You." lips pressed into an 'O'. "Do?" he asked with the finality of someone who already knew the answer to the question he was asking.

I could have asked him what he was talking about. But it was early, and I was grouchy so instead I grinned and decided to be difficult, "This morning?" I asked. "Or," I raised my hand and wagged my finger back and forth, "Do you mean in my dreams?"

"Harry, I don't have the energy to -"

I cut him off, "Because, in my dreams it would be any combination of bond girls," I breathed in and  amended , "At the same time, of course."

Nick's face sagged into his hand and he groaned. 

But I wasn't done. "In a luxury yacht, while being served only the most delectable of foods. And -"

"I'm thinking someone a little more,-" Nick leaned back in his chair, moving his hands to grip the armrests, his pot belly almost bursting from his buttoned shirt. "Oh I don't know," he waved one of his hands casually, "Short. Blond. Chicago PD."

Something must have shown on my face. I know my stomach almost lurched out of my throat.   
  
"Yeah, buddy," my boss said. "You ready to drop the humor and level with me?"

Oh boy, I did not need this right now.

I raised both my hands in surrender. "Okay," I babbled, "No more jokes."

"Thank you."

"So," I sat down in a client chair opposite of him, "Someone short, blond, and CPD visited you. Tell me what happened."

He gave me a look that basically jeered the words: 'you first', but after a moment's consideration, he relented. 

"She came in here earlier today, asking questions about a certain NBA-sized ruffian."

My fingers dug into my knees, knuckles white.

"Clearly she already knew you worked here, so I said: 'Yeah, I have this one employee who fits that description'." His hands waved in a circular gesture, "And she asked for your name and info. And I asked if you were in any sort of trouble, because,-" he quirked his mouth into a sarcastic smug grin, "There must be some mistake,  after-all , you weren't the type to get yourself mixed up in any trouble."

My spine was ramrod straight, and I started to sweat. 

"She said you weren't in any trouble. Then she started saying some weird things," He paused.

My attention hung, waiting, silently pleading for him to continue. He could be a little less  condescending considering it was my life and freedom on the line.

"Started talking about a joint partnership with the CPD, specifically her department SI."

"What?" I sputtered.

Nick's voice switched from annoyance to something more conversational. "That's what I said," he sounded confused. "Here I thought you'd gone and outed yourself as a wizard, and instead-"

"SHHHHhhh!" I hissed as my stomach did  somersaults. "Could you not say that out loud?" I demanded.

"Oh please," he replied, tapping his foot in impatience, "Like there is even anyone around to hear it."

"How did you even know?"

"I'm a detective. I figure things out. It's my job." He groaned and started explaining, "I got suspicious when a large portion of our budget started going to pizza, and the success rates of our investigations started to triple. 

"What does that even have to do with pizza?" I blubbered out. My mouth gaped, and I was barely able to even form words. Nick had  _KNOWN_ this whole time?

"Even you don't eat that much," he smirked, amused. "Besides, you keep a very  consistent routine. We get a case, you put in a huge order for pizza, pizza arrives, you  disappear into the bathroom, thirty minutes later you emerge with some 'hunch'. It is all very suspicious."

I stared at him.

"I also looked and saw you with your little pixie friend. Between that and having to change out the bathroom ceiling light every other week, I caught on."

"And you just, what? -" I sputtered, "Figured you'd never mention it."

His fingers reached forward and snagged today's newspaper off the desk. He opened it to a dog-eared page, "Yep."

"I could have been doing the  summoning out here, instead of that cramped space, this whole time?" I eyed him, "How long have you known?"

"Years. Also, no magic in the office. Might scare the clients."

"Hell's bells," I muttered shocked. "And you never reported me?"

Newspaper crinkled as he looked over it, his eyes dead serious. "Why ever would I do that?" For a moment his face almost looked sad. "Harry, you've always been a good kid, and there's a whole lot of crazy out there. Besides," he scoffed, "I'm not the sort to do those kinds of things to my business partner. You wouldn't be my business partner if I didn't trust you."

My vision got a little b l urry. Trust was kind of a big thing to me. And the list of normals I trusted with my secret was next to none. Unbeknownst to me, my boss had kept it for years and years.

"The cop," I said, looking down at the ground. "She saw me blast this vampire in an alley way. I saw her running from it, I saved her life, I didn't know she was still there watching." To almost myself I whispered, "How did she even find me?"

Nickolas Christian hummed a note to fill the silence.

"She knows where I work. Did you give her my address?"

"No," muttered Nick, "Not that you live there anymore anyways." He leaned forward, a strained movement, "Kid I don't think this one has it out for you. From what she hinted at, she's reaching across the isle. I think she just needs help knowing what she's up against. The only way to fight the unknown is with knowledge - and you have that." He sighed, "I'm not going to force you. But take some time and think about it, before we burn this bridge outright."

I sighed. My secret was out. I was terrified. But with Nick beside me, it didn't feel impossible. 

"Oh yeah," my boss smiled, "Also that girlfriend of yours knows too. In case that wasn't obvious."

I  buried my head in my hands and groaned.


End file.
